Displacement

Yesterday I found myself absolutely terrified about what to do with my fish. Nothing out of the ordinary was happening with them, everything was as per normal. But I was terrified and obsessing.

It was also my last day of work. I am now officially unemployed, and a full-time student again. But I wasn't worried about that. I was fretting about my fish. Displacement, anybody?

I had a lovely last day at work, and hope to be seeing all of the wonderful people I have been working with sometime soon. I promised to come and visit them and ask all kinds of silly questions as a medical student and junior doctor. People wrote the nicest things on my going-away card, and all the doctors told me that I will make a great doctor. It was a lovely thing to say, and I'll accept the complement. (Part of me wonders if anybody ever gets told, "Um, well done getting into medical school, but all of the staff here at the hospital think you should reconsider and go and study accounting." I think not.)

Right now I am thoroughly enjoying being excited and enthusiastic about something again. I am on the edge of the big, deep, scary pool about to jump in, and I know that it will be very tough swimming to the other end, but from out of the water it all looks so exciting and new and I can't wait.

I woke up at 7am this morning (which is mad considering it is Saturday and I went out and celebrated last night) and played the piano and read "Hot Lights, Cold Steel" by Michael Collins from cover to cover. It was a fantastic read and reaffirmed my reasons for never wanting to enter surgery. I think any young gunner with stars in his or her eyes should sit down and read it and find out just how glamorous and well-paid life as a surgical trainee really is.

It was fantastic to lie down on the couch and spend the morning reading a book. I haven't been able to do that for years. Something always distracted me or I wasn't able to concentrate well enough to maintain interest. I must be happy.